


Taste Your Beating Heart

by ingenious_spark, WaywardDesertKnight



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Accidents, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Multi, Reincarnation, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Were-Creatures, vampire biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-11-21 10:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11355198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/ingenious_spark, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDesertKnight/pseuds/WaywardDesertKnight
Summary: Family has many meanings. Families of blood, families of choice.Sometimes your family is a mish-mash of the most unlikely people, ranging from a ten-thousand-year-old master vampire who drinks his blood bags with bendy straws, to the sixteen year old cat shifter who thinks he's sneakier than he really is.Sometimes your family is two guys your own age and a deep-seated need for revenge.Sometimes your family of blood collides with your family of choice and you're left with difficult choices, the impending enslavement of the whole of humanity, magical swords, stupid prophecies, and the older brother you thought was dead for ten years.





	1. Prologue: Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to yet another epic fic by the married dorks with the keyboards. :)
> 
> This is a shout-out to all those terrible vampire romance novels we all pretend we don't read. My own occasional guilty pleasure is the Shadow Hunter series.
> 
> Title taken from Florence + The Machine's Howl: "drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart"
> 
> WARNING: first chapter contains what should have been a lethal car accident. Please take caution. As a survivor myself of that kind of event I know it is sensitive material.

The smell of blood and hot metal, gasoline and antifreeze was sharp in the winter air. He raced with superhuman speed to where he'd heard the crash, sliding when his feet encountered the black ice that had likely been the downfall of the unlucky driver. The car was crumpled against a sturdy, ancient redwood, definitely the loser, if such an awful, tragic accident could be called a fight. He regained his footing and surveyed the vehicle. A slender branch had come loose from the tree, spearing through the roof. The front end was crumpled beyond repair, the acrid flavor of smoke beginning to curl into the air as a fire began to burn.

He peered into the car and felt his heart almost stop. Weakly struggling against the seatbelt and the branch piercing their chest was a young man, barely twenty, his long, pale blond hair still in its neat ponytail, and green eyes looking up at him hazily, clouded with pain, fear, incomprehension. Bright blood leaked from his mouth.

“H-help me,” the boy said weakly, stretching out his hand. He disregarded the hand, tearing the door from the car with inhuman strength, tearing the seatbelt apart, and gently breaking the branch into a more manageable length, making sure not to jog the part piercing his chest too badly. Then he pried the child from the car, rending metal apart to free him, and gently lay him in the cold snow.

He was dying. There was nothing the mortal world could do for this boy- in his nearly two thousand years of life, he had gotten very good at judging whether a human could be saved by other humans. This one, well. There was no chance for him, not with that branch puncturing both lungs, the stomach, the liver, and, most damningly, having damaged the boy’s heart and spine.

“Listen to me, child. You have a choice here. You can choose to die, or you can let me save you, and in doing so make you something other than human. You would never be able to go back to who you were, can you accept this?” He spoke in two voices, to the child’s ears and his mind.

 _I want to live. Please._ The child could form no words, just a thought. Tears were trickling from clouding eyes, and he gently wiped them away. He bit his wrist, the sweet tang of blood on his tongue, and held it to the boy’s mouth.

“Drink, then, and live,” he said, the boy initially trying to weakly turn away from the blood flooding his mouth. He was forced to swallow, though, throat working weakly. He waited a few long moments, before he could feel his power, his blood, collecting around the boy’s wounds. He kept his wrist to the boy’s mouth, before gently working the bloody branch from his wound, ignoring the way the boy seized alarmingly. He poured power into his blood, keeping the wound on his wrist open with a thought, keeping the boy drinking in his blood, energy, _virus_. He picked shards of wood from the gaping hole in the boy’s chest cavity, watching his own bright golden energy react to the wounds, repairing damaged organs, muscle, bone.

He heard sirens in the distance, took his wrist away from the boy’s mouth, ignoring the way fledgling fangs tried to sink in, keep him there. He gathered the boy gently in his arms, making a small, carefully-placed cut on his neck and tipping the soft golden head to latch on and drink. He looked in the car for anything that might ease the child’s coming adjustment, and grabbed the canvas messenger bag sitting innocently on the passenger’s seat, glancing through and tossing the cell phone and wallet into the footwell and ignoring the laptop bag with a faint pang of regret.

He ran off into the night, making a not a footprint in the fresh snowfall.

* * *

"Master, you've returned. Who's this?” He smiled at his redheaded Childe, so gentle and soft-spoken.

“He was in a car accident. He couldn't be saved, so I gave him the choice.” He replied, and the redhead bowed his head in understanding.

“I'll tell the others you'll be busy, and bring you extra blood packs.” He smiled at his thoughtful Childe, making his way to his bedroom and collapsing against the pillows. He tossed the messenger bag onto the nightstand, and cradled the boy close. Somehow one of the child’s hands had clutched into the front of his shirt, and he gently smiled, covering the boy’s hand with his own. His redheaded Childe came back in, carrying a small cooler full of blood packs, pulling one out before setting it on the floor next to the bed. He came and curled up on the bed beside him, poking a hole in the bag and putting a bright pink bendy straw in it. He chuckled brightly.

“You remembered my straws!” He said, delighted. “I thought they weren't dignified?” he asked slyly, and his redheaded Childe rolled his eyes.

“They _aren't_ , but you'd only pout if I forgot them,” he replied dryly. “Now drink up, Master Shion. After all, you're drinking for two.” Shion laughed brightly, reaching out with his free hand to ruffle long red hair.

“And you'll be my nursemaid, I suppose, sweet Camus?” He asked, and Camus rolled his eyes slightly.

“ _Someone_ has to keep an eye on you.” He replied, eyes soft.

“Thank you.”

* * *

 Consciousness returned slowly, like molasses in his brain. With it came the sense of an all-over ache, a thick, salt-sweet metallic taste heavy in his mouth and nose.

Did he have a nosebleed in the night and not wake for it? He shifted sluggishly. Someone was holding him protectively, and he nuzzled into the hold.

“Have I been sick, mama?” he asked muzzily, and heard someone chuckle- a man. He blinked heavy eyelids, and saw a mass of white curly hair, framing a warm, open face with smiling brown eyes, an unfamiliar man. He jerked back, eyes wide, breath catching in his throat, but found he could barely move, weak as a newborn kitten.

“Easy little one. Try to remember what happened, all right? We won't hurt you, you're still weak, still adjusting,” the man said soothingly. He glanced around the room, finding another man curled up on the bed with them, long red hair and soft brown eyes, a book lying discarded on his lap.

Remember? Remember what?

_a moment of panic as he lost the wheel car skidding on unseen ice_

_loud noises and the shattering jarring heavy thud of impact shattering glass screaming metal_

_breathless for a moment i’m alive oh god thank_

_spearing through the windshield seconds later_

_pain dull and throbbing clouding his mind to thought and reason_

_a voice hands tearing him from the wreckage giving him a choice_

_i want to live please oh god_

_fading blackness and a sharp taste on his tongue_

_kiki_

He choked for a minute on the flood of memories, unable to hold back shaking sobs. The white-haired man cradled him close, stroking a soothing hand through his hair as he cried, and another hand, smaller, more slender, slightly chilly, stroked at his back as the redhead shifted closer. They both said nothing, not trying to soothe him or quell his tears, and he was grateful. The redhead began singing softly in- Russian?

He subsided to shuddering sighs and faint hiccups, and the older man produced a handkerchief, gently wiping the tears from his face.

“There you go, sweet one, such a pretty face shouldn't be marred by tears,” the older man said gently, with a touch of playfulness. The redhead huffed a faint laugh, still stroking his back. “I'm Shion, and this is my child, Camus.” He blinked between them- the only thing similar about them was the color of their eyes, warm, deep brown. Shion saw his confusion and stroked his hair once more, chuckling lightly. “You misheard, little lamb. My _Childe_. Camus has been so for eighty-three years now, since I stole him from a shipwreck and the jaws of drowning and hypothermia. Water and ice still run in his veins. Now you, too, are my Childe, sweet one, with starlight in your blood.”


	2. Chapter 1: Reunion

Kiki crept through the woods, his crossbow primed and ready. His footsteps in the debris on the forest floor were light and delicate as he scanned the surrounding forest, shaded green by his night vision goggles. He was hunting vampires, dirty bloodsucking nightstalkers. They'd had reports of a pair holed up in the forest- unusual, since it was usually weres who took to the forest. Vampires tended to prefer more urban environments, more prey. He was closing in on the last known location when he heard the high, thin scream, the sound of flesh coming into abrupt contact with a tree or something. 

He broke into a run, skidding into a clearing to see a small, lithe person with long, pale hair tied up in a thick braid, tear the head from the shoulders of a much larger person. The decapitated person’s flesh evaporated into smoke and their bones dissolved to ash as Kiki watched. A vampire (probably), attacking other vampires (definitely)? Killing them? That was actually very strange. He didn't let himself be distracted long, though, and braced his crossbow quickly against his shoulder, firing the bolt into the small vampire. The bloodsucker shrieked in pain, crumpling to the forest floor. Kiki took the chance to load a fresh bolt, and crept closer. This was a seriously stupid plan, but he wanted to know the cause of the conflict. He grabbed the vampire’s long hair and jerked their head up, questions dying in his throat as he saw the person’s face, crumpled in pain.

“You're  _ dead _ ,” he choked, and the impossible vampire looked up at him with familiar eyes, squinted with pain.

“My life is in your hands, yes. I hope you will find it in your heart to spare me, as I don't hunt humans and killed those that did,” his voice was light and sweet and achingly familiar, and Kiki yanked down the bandanna covering his mouth and nose, shoving up his goggles, revealing his face to the vampire in an incredibly stupid move. 

“You're dead and you've been dead for ten years, Mû.” Kiki hissed, eyes stinging. Mû’s eyes widened, and a shaky hand came up to cup Kiki’s cheek, streaking it with ash and dark blood. 

“Kiki?” The monster wearing his beloved older brother’s face whispered, tender and disbelieving, and that was all Kiki saw before something struck his head and he knew no more.

* * *

"Kiki!” Mû yelped, catching the insensate form of his baby brother as he fell forward. “Master Shion, stop that!” Shion blinked down at Mû, glancing between his childe and the hunter.

“Kiki? As in your mortal brother Kiki? This- hm. This is a problem.” Shion looked deeply conflicted. Mû turned wide green eyes up at his sire beseechingly.

“He saw my face. Can't we- can't we take him home? Explain? Please?” Mû begged. Shion looked doubtful.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Mû. It would have been better to give you a clean break. Seeing your family again could set you back, and you've come so far, my lamb, you've beaten the Hunger. And, if he is a hunter, that's dangerous. Hunters tend to travel in packs.” Shion sighed heavily, stroking a hand over Mû’s sleek, straight hair. Mû looked crestfallen, and then rallied.

“But- you're always saying we should try to get hunters on our side! This is a chance to do just that! He saw me kill the others, the ones who killed for sport. There's a chance, I could convince him, Shion, please,” he beseeched, and Shion was torn. Mû had some good points, and it would take a more steadfast soul than Shion to deny him. 

“I  _ suppose _ ,” he admitted carefully. “But we need to be careful. You need to be prepared for the possibility he won't take your transformation well, he's a hunter. You might not be able to do much, it might even be detrimental to let you handle this.” Mû looked stubborn, chin firm, and Shion sighed heavily. “Come on, let's get him back to the house.” Mû beamed up at his sire, hoisting the leggy, lanky frame of his little brother- now no longer the little ten-year-old boy who lived in his memory, but real, and - gods, twenty years old already? Shion gathered the hunter’s equipment and they darted off into the woods.

“Why did he come here? This isn't your hometown, shouldn't he still be there?” Shion mused. Mû shrugged.

“Maybe my… death caused them to move? And, he's twenty now, an adult. He could have come out here without Mama.” He suggested. Shion hummed. They would only know the answer when Kiki was able to give it.

* * *

Kiki woke with a dull headache, groaning and rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. Then he frowned. He couldn't hear Aiolia or Aiolos moving around in the other room. He huffed a sigh, and realized something - his pillow smelled like foreign detergent and familiar shampoo. He bolted upright, glancing around quickly.

It was some kind of basement room, he thought, with heavy curtains shielding high, narrow windows. Bed, nightstand, desk, chair. Closet. Door. He sprang to his feet and tried the door. Locked. He realized he was stripped down to his t-shirt and boxer briefs, and he flushed, angry and embarrassed. He poked through the desk, then the nightstand and the closet. The closet held a couple of outdated, dusty coats, there was some loose, blank paper in the desk and a hotel bottle of lotion in the nightstand. The chair was too short in the back to properly jam or block the door, and it opened outwards, so moving the desk wouldn't really do much. 

Someone knocked on the door. He stared at it incredulously. A minute, then two passed, and the person knocked again.

_ Wild _ . They'd locked him in here and they were  _ knocking _ ? 

“What the actual fuck,” he muttered, nonplussed. “You kidnapped me and locked me in here and you're fucking  _ knocking _ ?” He yelled. The knock that answered him was somehow timid and tentative.  _ How _ , he had no idea.

“It's only right that you be able to retain  _ some _ of your dignity,” The voice was very muffled, that door was a solid thing. “Please, may I come in?” Kiki ran a had through his hair, totally lost.

“I mean, yeah, I guess so?” He called back uncertainly. The lock clicked and the door opened, admitting a young man bearing a tray. The desk was right by the door, so the tray was laid down there. Kiki tried to steady his breathing. 

Mû should have been thirty by now, killed in a car crash at twenty and body stolen by wild animals, according to the police.

Why had he believed those reports?

“Hi Kiki,” the monster with Mû’s soft, young face said, tucking his hair behind his ear in a hatefully familiar motion. He hadn't realized how young his brother had looked at twenty. It was kind of horrifying. His smooth skin was still firm and pale, despite their mixed heritage. Kiki was the same, the only token of their heritage sometimes seeming to be their eyes, in shape if not in color. Most people just laughed at him when he said he was part Tibetan, so he'd stopped mentioning it. His eyes were still green, as Kiki’s were blue, but his hair, instead of golden blond, was white, as though vampirism had stripped it of its color. He wore it even longer than Kiki remembered, down past his hips instead of just his mid-back, caught up in a neat braid.

They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“It’s good to see you,” the monster said, and Kiki felt almost nauseous. It acted so much like Mû it  _ hurt _ .

“What do you  _ want _ ?” He spat the words, and it flinched, eyes dropping to the floor and hand moving to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind his ears.

“I- I'd like you to hear me out. For now, I guess, just enjoy your breakfast.” It murmured, shoulders rounded as it leaves. Kiki stared at the door as it fell shut, the faint click of the lock loud in his silence. 

“...what the fuck.” he repeated blankly. Then, for lack of anything better to do, he investigated the tray. There was a plate of some sort of breakfast hash under the tinfoil- grated potatoes, sausage, what was probably chopped spinach, all topped with a perfectly fried egg. It smelled  _ amazing _ . Kiki’s stomach rumbled, and he remembered, belatedly, that he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, not having been in the mood for dinner. Would they poison him? There didn't seem to be a point, they were probably going to snack on him, right? Maybe there were drugs in it. Date rape drug or something like that.

He prowled restlessly around the small room, brain in turmoil. Finally he sat back down at the chair, peeled back the tinfoil, picked up the plastic fork, and took a single bite, making sure to take a bit of everything. Then he waited again. When he didn't feel anything for at least half an hour, he sighed, peeling the tinfoil off the tray entirely. He paused. There, in the corner, was a thick black rectangle, a bit of green poking out the bottom. A post it note rested atop it.

_ ‘I said I'd pick it up and bring it to you, it just took longer than I thought. :)’ _

Kiki picked it up with trembling hands, and flipped it open, pressing the power switch. It turned on with a cheery little noise, and he fumbled, dropping it, lost in memory.

_ Small hands holding the land line phone. “I think I left it in the park, you have to go find it, big bro, please!” _

_ Soft laughter on the other end. “I will, I promise! Just tell mama I'll be home late, okay?” _

_ “Yay, thank you! Love you!” _

_ “Love you too, little brother.” _

The last conversation he'd had with his brother. He'd left his damned Nintendo DS at the park where he'd been attending summer program. Mû had been going to pick it up from the program’s lost and found, so he was going to be home pretty late. And then he'd never come home at all. Kiki picked up the fork and ate, not tasting or even really seeing the food, eyes clouded with tears.

He curled up under the desk after, the small enclosed space giving him a measure of comfort, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a warning: I'm fucking around with literally everyone's ages.


	3. Chapter 2: Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS! This chapter is pretty heavy! It deals with discussion of car accidents, major injury, torture, nonconsensual vampiric change, murder, and unhealthy obsessive behaviors. All of it is framed within the narrative of someone who is recovering and trying to explain to someone who doesn't know or understand yet.
> 
> If you want the spoiler of who Shion's husband was, check the end notes. But also recall this is an AU where reincarnation is totally a thing.

_He curled up under the desk after, the small enclosed space giving him a measure of comfort, and cried._

Kiki dozed off, and woke up at some point later when someone knocked, the lock clicking and the door opening after a moment, shutting softly behind whoever it was. There was the sound of something being set atop the desk above his head, and he watched warily as a slim hand came down to pick up his DS, setting it on the desk as well. The chair scraped out softly, and the person sat down, leaving the opening of the desk free for Kiki. He peered out and up cautiously.

Clad in a soft, sleeveless white tunic and soft dark blue pants, feet bare and long white hair tied up into a braid, the person sitting there looked maybe in their late twenties or early thirties. For all Kiki knew, he was a million and a half, though.

“Who’re you?” He asked, voice rough and hoarse. The person handed him a sealed bottle of water, and he cracked the seal gratefully, drinking deeply, peering up at the person suspiciously. His legs were cramping up, but he didn't want to leave the artificial safety of under the desk. 

“I'm Shion, and I guess you could say I'm the leader of sorts here,” he said, smiling all gentle-soft, making his warm brown eyes crinkle. “I'm a master vampire, I suppose you would call it, though I've never really felt the title suited me. I'm also the person who took Mû away from you, who changed him in the first place.” Kiki couldn't help the instinctive flinch, the way he pressed himself further back into the solid wood around him, breath catching and heart beating double time. Shion held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I'd like to explain, all right?” He waited until Kiki gave a hesitant nod. 

“Very well. Your brother crashed his car, I believe he skidded out on a patch of black ice. He collided with a redwood tree. A branch speared through the windshield and stabbed him through, right here,” he circled a patch on his chest that made Kiki swallow, hard. Mom had never told him how bad the accident had been. “I freed him from the wreck, and I asked him if he wanted to live. He was weak, about to die, but he told me yes. So I turned him. Emergency services wouldn't have been able to save him, and I have a very difficult time simply letting people die, especially those so young, who burn so brightly in my mind's eye. I'm psychic, you see.” Kiki scowled, shifting a touch further away and thinking very loudly of all the different ways he could insult Shion in both English and Tibetan. Shion sighed.

“That's not making me feel any better. He was dying, how is that consent?” He finally asked, sullen and stubborn.

“Usually I do have a tiny bit more time to actually explain that I'm going to turn them into a vampire, I will admit. But I couldn't let your brother go. That one was a personal failing.” He sighed, crossing his legs and resting folded hands atop them. “You’re Tibetan by blood, right? I'm from a country that was destroyed long ago, and many of the survivors fled there, including my three sisters and my brother. Your brother… he looks very much like my baby brother. You're right, that Mû only granted me his consent under duress, and for that I apologize. He's forgiven me, though, if that counts for anything.” Kiki snorts softly.

“If memory serves, he'd forgive a mugger for stealing his wallet at gunpoint.” Kiki retorted with biting dark humor. Shion chuckled wryly.

“You have an unfortunate point. However, consider this: I offered your brother the choice of who would teach him to control the Hunger. I gave him a list of names and places all over the world, and freely told him about all of them- your brother is a very curious man- and yet when I asked him where he wished to go, he told me he wanted to remain with me.” He said, voice gone softly serious. “Even after I explained to him that I could never let him go back to you and your mother, that we would be moving away, here, as soon as I could arrange it.” That gave Kiki pause.

“I still have questions. And I still don't trust you!” He snapped. Shion laughed lightly.

“I would expect nothing less. Ask away,” he replied genially. Kiki bit his lip, ordering his thoughts.

“What's the hunger thing, then? It sounded important, the way you said it.” Kiki decided finally. Shion made a soft humming sound.

“It’s difficult to explain if you've never experienced it, but I will try. When the transformation sets in, one of the side effects is that the bone marrow ceases to produce fresh blood cells. To try and avert the body dying from lack of blood, the predatory instinct kicks in, driving a vampire to seek blood to sustain them. In addition to the bone marrow, the transformation converts the digestive system to take in blood and use it through the rest of the body as it would self-produced cells. The predatory drive is at its worst when the vampire is newly-made, before they have had a chance to learn to control their new instincts.” Shion sighed. “Often, if the change was traumatic or forced upon a person, they enter a berserk state, killing freely, even though vampires don't need to kill to feed.” Shion played idly with the end of his braid, faced aged and weary.

“You sound like you've had personal experience with that.” Kiki observed. Shion sighed.

“I do. One of the Childer staying here was kidnapped with his adopted son, and the boy forced to watch as they tortured him with the Change. It was a miracle he managed to break free, releasing his son without attacking him. He killed his tormentors, and still feels deep guilt for that act. He hates violence.” Shion paused, leaning forward and setting his elbows on his knees, locking eyes with Kiki. Kiki felt slightly uncomfortable. 

“What is it?” He whispered without really knowing why.

“I was also Changed through torture and pain. I was happily married once, but a previous lover, who I thought I'd had an amicable break up with, kidnapped both of us. He'd been corrupted by one of the First, a cruel and merciless vampire known as Minos. My friend- I had still counted him as such, still held regard for Luné until this point.” Shion took a deep breath, and Kiki regretted asking, a hand reaching up to slide into Shion’s before he could stop himself. Shion looked surprised, and grateful, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze before he continued.

“Luné had been driven insane by Minos, I think. Minos had fostered within him an unhealthy possessiveness, and he believed I belonged to him, even though I had married another. He Changed me slowly, in the most painful way possible, in order to somehow punish me for loving another. He tortured my husband, too, but kept him alive. Once I was mad from the Hunger, he put us in a room together and I-” He pulled away, his hands clenched into fists. “I killed my husband, the man I'd sworn to love, protect, and cherish.” Shion looked incredibly tired, an old guilt lining his features.

“Tell me, Kiki, do you believe in reincarnation?” He asked, and Kiki felt awkwardly uncomfortable.

“Uh. I mean, I'm Buddhist, sort of,” he said. He wasn't really an active practitioner, in fact he was sort of lapsed. He fidgeted, embarrassed. Shion smiled gently.

“Your brother is quite active, though he still identifies as a lay practitioner, “ he says. “I'm afraid reincarnation is very real, though. Every time my husband has reincarnated, Luné has managed to find him before I had the chance, and murdered him, leaving his body where I could find it.” Shion’s voice was heavy and choked, and Kiki suppressed the need to give him a hug.

“That's…” he swallowed. “Really awful. Can I have some time? To process?” Kiki asked, a touch desperate. He really needed to reevaluate his beliefs. Shion nodded and stood.

“Of course. There's some food on the desk, when you want it.” He said, and quietly left. He waited for the click of the lock, but it didn't come. They were letting him free?

Kiki ate quietly, not really tasting the food, trying desperately to think through the wall of confused noise in his brain. Despite having slept recently, he returned to the bed, trying to get his brain to be quiet. Maybe he would process better if he slept.

Sleep was a long time coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers!
> 
>  
> 
> Dohko was Shion's husband. But there's a chance he could come back!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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